The Man Who Waited
by chartreuseian
Summary: There were many things Nikola Tesla would do for Helen Magnus. ONESHOT


**Doctor Who reference was unintentional but unavoidable.**

**Don't own it, just coming down from a Sanctuary cupcake fuelled sugar high.**

**One Sweet Love - Sara Bareilles. Listen. Love. It inspired. Don't own that either.**

**xx**

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><p>There were many things Nikola Tesla would do for Helen Magnus. Not for love but for the woman who had his heart. He would try (honestly, he did) to curb his drinking. He would try (again, he really did) to be nice to the children. He would endanger his life so that she could go running after Druitt. He would let her go to Praxis without him. He would destroy his work. He would wring Adam Worth's useless neck with his own bare hands. He would allow her to shoot him. He would admit he was wrong (but only in private). He would hold her if she wanted to cry. He would chase away the children even if she didn't ask. He would move to (shudder) her Sanctuary if she'd let him. He would grow old with her (if it were possible). He would love her. He would let her break his heart. He would waste his genius on the projects she asked for. He would fix her house. He would leave her room. He would thank her for bring him back to his full power. He would lose himself for her again. He would kill a hundred vampire Queens. He would take a bullet for her. He would take two bullets for her. He would let her pretend that she didn't believe him to be sincere. He would drink camomile tea. He would work with Henry. He would actually call him Henry (sometimes). He would turn to her and only her for help. He would be romantic and gooey and not himself. He would trust her.<p>

And he would wait. For her. He would sit back and wait.

All these years he had waited meant nothing. He knew there was a high probability he'd have to wait for many, many more. And he would. He had waited for over a century for her to love him. He had watched her with Druitt and Watson and the countless lovers in between. He had watched from close by and afar. He had watched silently and he had watched with a quick tongue. He had watched and waited and he would watch and he would wait for as long as it took.

A long time ago, Nikola had decided that if he was ever going to get his heart broken, he was going to make sure whoever did said breaking was worth the pain. There were days when he prayed he'd made the right choice. Some days he would wonder what his father would have thought of that. Of course it didn't matter though because he knew he'd made he'd made the right choice.

All those self spread rumours about celibacy were nothing more than a public declaration that he would wait for her. She had to know that. After all, this was Nikola and she had to know that his libido was as big as any other's. He could have taken lovers, would have taken lovers if it wasn't for her. But he couldn't. It was always her. That wasn't to say he'd been alone for the entirety of his very long life but she was always with him, tainting his every decision.

Sometimes she drove him insane. Normally this happened when they were a continent or so apart and had been so for some time. She often became the niggling voice, peering over his shoulder with critical eyes at whatever he was working on. He was rather pleased that, after all this time, he no longer needed to close his eyes to see her, instead she became almost real, her footsteps almost, almost echoing around the room. She would voice his doubts, swanning around his laboratory, always in that crimson dress he first noticed her in. Some days, some really bad days, he would swear he could smell her, that gentle perfume that hung around her at all times. She took his sanity at times like this, her words quickly becoming cruel and mocking, making him yearn for those few yet oh so sweet compliments that she used to give him. Nothing big, nothing ego stroking but small words of encouragement, smiles across work benches, glances of mutual boredom as Nigel told some of his not quite salacious, yet still highly inappropriate stories. There was a time when they didn't have to speak. He knew what she was thinking and she knew the same.

Once or twice, he'd tried to distance himself from her but to no avail. Each time they both ended up hurt and he was more addicted to her than before. It was like they were spiralling around each other, dancing and twirling just close enough to keep them both on edge but far enough apart to make them bend towards each other.

Sometimes he wondered if it would ever happen. If she would ever look at him and see how desperately he wanted her, how much he needed her. Those sixty years had been almost unbearable for him. The only thing that had kept him going was the imaginary Helen he had follow him around. He knew it was pathetic and sad but he figured it would be the closest he might ever get to having her so he certainly wasn't going to push away what little he had. Of course, after a while, he'd grown impatient, needing to see the real her. Once or twice (at least three times a decade) Nikola found himself in either Old City or London, peering into the darkness as he tried to catch just one glimpse of her as she captured another abnormal.

The first time he saw her, he'd been shocked. Her auburn hair was getting longer and she started to wear these odd little glasses that he never managed to understand. Of course, James and Nigel had been there from time to time but, as her hair grew longer and darker, they both faded away, their visits less frequent than before (these are the things you notice when you stalk your close friends). He honestly had no idea why he stayed hidden from them, from her but he just knew that they needed space. She needed space. Killing him had been hard for her although he didn't dare hope the reason was the one he'd hastily constructed in his own mind. But then, as he watched her swell with a child he knew was John's, the decision was taken out of his hands. She wouldn't want him to be around. He was bad with children, a menace to society (not as much as the child's father, but still) and not to be trusted with important things such as the Sanctuary. An odd name, he'd decided. It was a Sanctuary for All. Except for one Nikola Tesla. He wasn't sure why but he knew it was a place he was not welcome.

He'd watched as the small infant grew into a bright young girl who was so much like her mother that Nikola began to long to see Helen as a child, to see if she shared the bright eyed enthusiasm of her blonde daughter (he already knew she would). She was a smart girl and, as she grew older and he saw more of John in her, Nikola realised she was probably very much deadly. Once or twice, right before he finally got up the nerve to contact Helen, he thought the girl, now a young woman saw him as he watched their growing family. Of course, he'd immediately hid but, just as her eyes had locked on his, Nikola had seen the intelligence of her mother lying there.

Then, finally, finally he'd contacted her. He needed her. He wanted her to be by his side as he again became the king of something. He knew his plan was dangerous and would most likely involve her shooting him but in truth, he'd needed her mind. He couldn't figure out what was missing from his experiments and he needed her. Both as a woman and as the most intelligent scientist he'd ever known. In a moment of recklessness, he'd admitted his feelings, and, for some strange reason, he was glad when she didn't believe him. Then, of course, John had come and killed him and from then on, they'd been back to their old game, dancing around each other like nothing had ever changed. He knew he should have been upset that they were back where they'd always been but he loved her. He could wait. He loved her enough to wait.

And Nikola Tesla was not a patient man.

There were many things Nikola Tesla would do for Helen Magnus. Not for love. But for her. For something more than love.

.

_Do you think she knows?_


End file.
